


Farewell, Cherished Memories (Yr. 1989)

by prubun



Series: Memories [9]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Love, M/M, Nationverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-10-14 19:49:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prubun/pseuds/prubun
Summary: The personification of East Germany and formerly the Kingdom of Prussia, known as Gilbert Beilschmidt, was to return to Germany.





	Farewell, Cherished Memories (Yr. 1989)

**Author's Note:**

> ##  _The desire to see him was matched with the dread of what today was, and it left him frozen outside the door. He just couldn't do it. Entering that room meant that it was all happening; it would set in motion what would be the worst day of Ivan's life._
> 
> **[Posted: July 19th, 2019]**
> 
> Takes place in 1989, shortly after the Berlin Wall fell.

The Berlin Wall had fallen.

Among other news about his own nation, Ivan also received word from his superiors that the personification of East Germany and formerly the Kingdom of Prussia, known as Gilbert Beilschmidt, was to return to Germany.

It hurt more than taking a bullet to hear those words—those _orders_—given to him. That Gilbert must return home to where he belonged. _'He belongs with me!'_ Ivan wanted to tell them and storm out of that meeting, but he knew that there was no changing it, and knew that it wasn't true in any sense. Ivan had told Gilbert yesterday about what was to happen, that his brother would come to pick him up at the Wall, and the man broke into tears. Out of happiness, Ivan presumed. Despite the relationship they had, Ivan couldn't help but be upset that Gilbert was so _happy_. Upset that Gilbert wanted to leave him so badly. In a way, he couldn't blame him, and he supposed was a fool to think he wanted to stay. They all left him in the end.

Gilbert was different than the others, however. He ate meals with Ivan, spent more time with him than anyone else, counseled him, wasn't scared of him like most were, and shared his bed many times. Even after all these years, Ivan still wasn't convinced that it wasn't just to keep him under control; to please him because he owned Gilbert and because it was his job to keep relations calm. It was all to keep the harsh poster child of the Soviet Union from getting violent.

But _why?_ When had he ever hurt anyone? When had he ever shown any enjoyment in the things he was made to do? Gilbert had to know, right? The life of a personification was to obey and take the brunt of anything the leaders did; the credit for all the bad things that happened. Every nation had their dark side, so why was he treated like a timebomb that needed one thing to trigger a violent reaction?

Ivan stood outside Gilbert's bedroom door for several minutes. The desire to see him was matched with the dread of what today was, and it left him frozen outside the door. He just couldn't do it. Entering that room meant that it was all happening; it would set in motion what would be the worst day of Ivan's life. It would be the last time he walked into that room to see _him_ at his desk or reading in his chair by the window, or sleeping soundly in bed. He didn't want that image to fade into just a memory.

Swallowing every instinct he had, Ivan knocked three times on the door. Within, Gilbert replied, "Come in," and Ivan sucked in a breath of trepidation. He turned the handle and pushed the door open. Gilbert was standing by the window, dressed in black slacks, a white button-up with the top two buttons undone. 

"Is it time?" The apprehension in Gilbert's voice was clear and Ivan was unsure what to make of it. It sounded eager, but there was a shake to it like he was nervous. Ivan supposed he would be; it was a big day. Forcing a smile, Ivan shook his head.

"Not yet. Ludwig won't be here until this afternoon," he said and took a cautious step into the room. "I...I wanted to invite you to breakfast, if you want to." For the first time since Gilbert arrived, he saw Ivan genuinely nervous and it was unsettling to see. Ivan was usually very blunt but he wasn't even looking at Gilbert directly and seemed off. 

"Sure, yeah, breakfast sounds good," Gilbert agreed to go but his voice was soft and docile, with a touch of concern for Ivan's state of mind. It was strange seeing him like that.

"Well then, I'll see you in the dining hall whenever you're ready." Ivan turned and gripped the door handle.

"Wait, I'll go with you," Gilbert said, stepped around the desk in the room, and went up to Ivan. "I have nothing to do until later, so. Still got that strong vodka?" he asked and Ivan smiled for real this time. 

"Of course, this is Russia. We always have strong vodka."

At breakfast, Gilbert sat next to Ivan as they ate. It was silent and awkward with only the clanking of silverware to fill the air. Watching Ivan was the worst part; he knew the whole thing bothered him. Along with what his own nation was dealing with, he was surprised that Ivan wasn't sick, or if he was, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.

Occasionally Ivan would glance to Gilbert and tell himself that he had to take a mental image of him. Just the simplest of things — The way Gilbert held his utensils, how he tended to chew his food on the left side of his mouth more than the right, the way he held his chin in his palm as he stared out the window once he was done eating. He wanted to burn the image of him into his mind so that he'd never forget.

Time kept ticking by. After breakfast the two each had a bit of vodka, but it was hard to have a conversation. They both knew that today was a happy and sad day. Eventually, the dreaded moment came where it was time to meet Ludwig at the Wall. They sat in the back seat while a driver took them to their destination. 

"Are you nervous?" Ivan asked him. He had to say something. The silence was killing him and he needed to hear Gilbert's voice. 

"Yeah. A lot has happened..." Gilbert was looking out the window and Ivan felt the urge to reach out to him, his hand clenched as he fought off that urge. He had to let go. Gilbert wasn't his anymore.

"There's the Wall," Gilbert said and he felt his stomach twist into knots. Ivan didn't reply and just studied Gilbert's expression. He looked less nervous now but he didn't seem entirely happy. It was a hard emotion to read, whatever it was. He wanted to know what was going on in Gilbert's head. 

The car pulled up and just off in the distance was another car. Ludwig got out of the back seat and stepped to the front of the car and looked towards them. Ivan opened his door first, Gilbert followed suit and walked forward as well. 

That was when a smile appeared on Gilbert's lips. Seeing his brother again made everything disappear and he felt the nerves fade. When he looked at Ivan expecting him to look happy, he saw a sad smile. He knew the difference between Ivan's real and fake smiles.

"I'm happy for you, Gilbert," Ivan lied. He slid his hand into his pocket and held something. "I won't keep you any longer, I've kept you for too long already." At that moment he decided. The object in his pocket was a gift; something he had commissioned the moment he was told that Gilbert would be going home. A ring specially made for him, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to give it to him. Would any memory of Russia be good for him? 

"Thanks," Gilbert said. He wasn't sure how to feel about Ivan's other comment so he didn't say anything about it. "I guess...I'll..." He began to take nervous steps forward. After a few feet, he began to jog towards Ludwig. He felt the wind sting his eyes and it made them well up, or maybe he was crying, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that his brother was there and his heart was pounding fast. For Ivan, however, seeing Gilbert get further and further away made it feel like his heart was being ripped out. The two finally met and embraced, Gilbert was crying, Ludwig as well. Ivan watched with a dead stare. He'd seen Gilbert cry on several occasions, but had he ever see him smile as happily as he was in that moment as he embraced his brother? He couldn't recall.

"Ready to go home?" Ludwig asked his brother.

"Yeah, I can't believe I'm finally going home." Gilbert wiped at his eyes and then smiled. "Give me a second, I need to do something," Ludwig was surprised but nodded. Gilbert turned around and saw Ivan walking back to the car. 

Everything was dead silent for him. He knew there must be sound but his world was dead. He tried so hard to make Russia home for Gilbert and provided everything he could, but it still wasn't enough to make Gilbert love him. Not even a little bit.

"Ivan!" the voice cut through everything and Ivan stopped, turned his head, and saw Gilbert jogging towards him. 

"Gilbert?" Ivan stammered out in confusion. His heart was pounding.

"I didn't want to leave before I said goodbye," he panted softly. He then rubbed at his neck in that awkwardly. "I um... I'm bad at these things, but..."

"It's okay, Gilbert, you don't have to." Ivan didn't want to say it. Anything to drag out his last moments with Gilbert, just let him savor it. Gilbert's expression became melancholy and then stared right at Ivan's face, flustering him slightly.

"Thank you." There was a silence between them and Ivan couldn't think. Gilbert stepped closer and gave him an awkward shy glance before wrapping his arms around him. Ivan's eyes widened and he felt his heart palpitate, and then he hugged Gilbert back tightly, clinging to him desperately. He didn't want to let him go. Gilbert was so warm and comforting for him. He realized that he wouldn't embrace him tonight, or wake up beside him in the morning and hold him. No more dinners or long conversations until 4 in the morning. No more warmth.

Gilbert pulled away after nearly a minute, although he had to force himself too. It didn't make sense. Russia was cold and harsh and he wanted to go home, but in those final moments with Ivan, he realized that they _were_ his final moments. He realized how much he came to love it there in that house with him, how comforting it actually was there. It was hard to let go, even if he wanted to go home.

"Well, I better get going." Gilbert took a step back. 

It was now or never. Ivan reached back into his pocket. 

"Gilbert, wait. I have... I have a gift. To say goodbye." Ivan pulled out a small box from his coat pocket and held it delicately in his palm.

"What is it?" Gilbert asked, curiously looking. Ivan reached forward and held Gilbert's hand, lifted it, and placed it into his palm. Once Ivan pulled away Gilbert saw that it was a small black box.

"Open it in the car, okay?" Ivan smiled sadly and watched Gilbert inspect the box.

"Thank you." As if out of desperation, Gilbert hugged Ivan again and squeezed the tiny box in his hand.

_'Please don't make this harder...'_ Ivan pleaded in his mind, but he couldn't help but embrace him back. _'I don't want you to go...'_ His heart was being tugged in two different directions; he knew Gilbert delaying the inevitable would only make it hurt more, but he wanted so badly to keep holding him. 

"Alright, I can't keep Ludwig waiting much longer," Gilbert let out a forced chuckle and took a step back from Ivan. "Well, I'll see ya around, yeah?" Ivan wasn't sure why, but that felt like a lie. Why would Gilbert ever come back to him now that he was free of this place? Of him. He simply nodded and waved when Gilbert began to go back to Ludwig. He stood still as Gilbert got into the car and then sighed. That was it, the last sight of Gilbert was gone. Inside the car, Gilbert held the little box in his hand. He wondered what it could be since Ivan wasn't exactly the best at giving gifts.

"What's that?" Ludwig inquired when he saw his brother so transfixed on it. 

"A gift from Ivan." Ludwig didn't reply to the answer. Gilbert's opened the top piece of the box. Inside was a small silver ring. He pulled it out and inspected it. "A ring..." Gilbert spoke aloud and turned it curiously. A marking on the inside caught his attention — there was an inscription carved there. It took him a second to remember his Russian but when the letters made sense to him, he felt his heart pound and his body felt warm, and his eyes pricked with the beginning of tears.

"What's wrong?" Ludwig asked. Gilbert shook his head dismissively and then gently slid the ring onto his right ring finger. 

"I hate him," Gilbert lied with a smile, which confused Ludwig but he didn't question it. 

As the car started, Gilbert rolled down his window and looked outside. Ivan was still just standing there like he was lost. Leaning up and out the window, Gilbert yelled for him. 

"Ivan!" he shouted. Ivan turned and saw him practically sitting halfway out the car window and waving his hand in the air. "Don't you forget either, you moron!" It was then that Ivan saw something glimmer on Gilbert's right hand. The ring. The sight made Ivan blush and tug his scarf up. It still hurt, but at least Gilbert was wearing it, for now. Ivan waved back and watched Gilbert's car drive off. Even with that confirmation; Gilbert's acceptance of his gift, he felt so cold and alone now. 

A few months later...

Ivan had been hearing disturbing rumors from Germany in recent months. That Gilbert was getting sick more often than usual, and that he was sleeping a lot. With the unification complete, he would slowly disappear as many other nations had, and it seemed to be happening already. The idea of a world without Gilbert was a world Ivan refused to live in, even if he had no control over it. 

Occasionally, in his sorrow, he would go to Gilbert's empty room and he'd slowly break down, crying and drinking heavily as Gilbert's scent and echoes haunted him. Knowing that he was out there and sick made him worry. Gilbert was the type to deny that he was sick because of his pride and not wanting anyone to think he was weak, so was he even getting the proper treatment to hold off on the inevitable? Did he realize that he was dying? No, Ivan knew Gilbert better than that. Gilbert knew better than anyone what was happening to him.

After several weeks of Ivan getting drunk to memories, he stumbled onto a possibility. It was a long shot but it was worth trying anything to keep Gilbert's death from happening.

One morning, Ivan knocked on a door and waited a few seconds before entering. Inside his boss was sitting at the desk begrudgingly hunched over a pile of paperwork.

"Yes? What is it, Ivan?" they asked. Ivan took in a deep breath, folding his hands behind his back.

"I have a request," he started. His boss glanced up to him and saw determination and fire in his eyes. "Concerning Kaliningrad."

**Author's Note:**

> **Thanks for reading!**   
**Remember to leave a comment if you enjoyed! Thank you! 💕**
> 
> I like how this started but I kind of lost motivation about halfway through. I had the beginning and end so clear in my mind but I don't know, I'm aware it isn't the best thing I've done and doesn't flow as well as I usually write, but I had to get the poison out.
> 
> Depending on how I feel, I might eventually write a continuation of this, considering that it leads to one of my biggest headcanons that Gilbert eventually becomes the personification of Kaliningrad under Russian rule. Let me know if you'd like to see that written out.
> 
> **Author's notes/thoughts:**  
-The ring's carving read, "My Love, Remember Me."  
-Gilbert becoming Kaliningrad and staying in Russia is my favorite thing ever I will take this headcanon to my grave.
> 
> **—**
> 
> **My socials:**  
•[Tumblr](https://prubun.tumblr.com/)  
•Discord: prubun#3725  
•[25+ only Hetalia Discord!](https://discord.gg/UqsTh2)


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